The Lady's Favour
by Seizure-On-Demand
Summary: A quick look into Vanellope's life as she enjoys the perks of being President. She also enjoys being the object of adoration for a certain handsome young boy racer, though he may have to work a little harder to earn her love than he'd expected to. Vanellope/Rancis.
1. The Lady's Favour

Boy, Tumblr sure is the place where inspiration happens. _This_ certainly happened.

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**The Lady's Favour**

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"Hey, Vanellope, can I carry your bag?"

"Can I carry your helmet?"

"Can I carry your, uh…got anything else?"

Vanellope giggled. Less than three days had passed since her restoration to power in _Sugar Rush_, and her fellow racers were already sucking up to her like there was no tomorrow, beginning what would be a _very_ long process of paying off their enormous debt to her. She'd barely pulled up in front of her kingdom's most popular soda shop before Gloyd, Swizzle, and Rancis came running out, eager to serve as her personal valets for the day. Their weekly Boys Only outing had come to a complete halt when she'd unexpectedly arrived to quench her own thirst with a glass of fizzy lemon-lime. She was now their first priority.

It was a struggle not to laugh at the anxious looks on their faces as they waited for her to hand them her belongings. The President decided to humour them. She handed her sleek new racer's helmet to Gloyd and shoved her green duffel bag into Swizzle's arms. That left only Rancis, who stood there looking sheepish and awkward and so boyishly handsome that Vanellope bit her lower lip and stifled another giggle. "I don't have anything else that needs carrying, Ran. Sorry."

"Aw, nothing at all?" His disappointed pouty face made her heart flutter. Gloyd tapped his foot impatiently, and Swizzle's arms trembled from the effort of holding up her heavy bag. Vanellope thought quickly, and then a light bulb flashed in her head.

"Here," she said, reaching up with both hands and yanking out her licorice hair tie after a few hard tugs. Her dark tresses fell freely over her shoulders, and she heard Rancis let out an appreciative little sigh. But for what? The sight of her pretty loose hair or the lady's favour she placed in his hands? His fingers, soft and stubby like hers, tightened protectively around the licorice, and their eyes met for a brief moment. In those glistening blue orbs Vanellope saw a _thank you._

"Guys," Swizzle pleaded, ready to collapse under the weight of the bag. Vanellope almost felt bad about stuffing it with sweets from the royal kitchens that morning. "Can we go in now?"

Vanellope said yes, and the boys stepped aside to let her pass. They knew their places now and they would follow behind her, with her things in tow. Vanellope promised herself that she wouldn't make a habit out of using them like this. She would savour this power for a week or so, and then no more. Besides, she could find delights elsewhere. The whole world was her racetrack now, and Vanellope intended to drive forever.

Just before pushing open the doors of the soda shop, Vanellope glanced over her shoulder and saw Rancis break off a piece of her hair tie and quickly shove it into his pocket. When he returned it to her later, she would pretend not to notice. She _was_ a merciful princess, after all.

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**Fin**

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	2. The Lady's Assistance

So a friend on Tumblr gave me a prompt that unintentionally turned into a sort-of second chapter for this thing. Enjoy?

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**The Lady's Assistance**

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"Do you think she'll like it?"

Crumbelina quickly skimmed the words on the sheet of paper once more, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip, giving no response.

"Well?" Rancis asked anxiously.

Crumbelina shook her head and handed the paper back to him. "It needs work, Rancis. President Van's not gonna buy this hunk of cheese."

Rancis groaned. "But I worked so hard on it! She _has _to—"

"She doesn't have to do _anything_," Crumbelina reminded him sharply. "And she's not going to like your poem. _Hair like black licorice?_ C'mon, Rancis, she already wears a licorice thing in her hair. That simile falls flat."

Rancis blushed crimson. He had a piece of Vanellope's licorice hair tie in his pocket. He'd broken it off when she'd given him the hair tie to carry, while Gloyd carried her racer's helmet and Swizzle was burdened with her bulging bag of sweets. Rancis treasured the piece of licorice like a little trophy. He would treasure the heart of the girl even more, if only he could win it.

Crumbelina was guiding him towards this goal. As a girl with refined tastes, she could help him write a poem of quality, an ode to a raven-haired princess _worthy _of her rank and beauty. And he trusted her. She could keep a secret. Taffyta would ridicule him relentlessly if she knew about his campaign to court Vanellope (which was why he made sure she was kept in the dark about it) and Candlehead had a tongue as loose and careless as her mind. She also didn't know the difference between a sonnet and a limerick, which was why Rancis confided in Crumbelina.

They were in her house, with steaming cups of tea sitting between them on the table. Crumbelina had offered cake, but Rancis was too nervous and agitated for cake. The tea calmed him and made him think more clearly. He needed to get this poem done soon. He needed Vanellope to _know,_ before it was too late.

"Should I start over?" Rancis asked quietly, his tone defeated.

"Yes," Crumbelina replied. "But this time, I'll write it with you."

Before Rancis could protest, Crumbelina disappeared to fetch paper and writing materials. When she came back she personally placed the pen in Rancis's hand, and tried to ignore how warm and soft his skin felt when her fingers brushed against it.

_"He's not mine,"_ she reminded herself. She closed her eyes for a brief moment and remembered all the times she'd spat insults at Vanellope, yanked her black-like-licorice-hair, thrown food at her, _laughed._ She had a debt to pay now. She would let Vanellope have Rancis as her atonement, even if it shattered her heart into a million pieces. And she would help Rancis get Vanellope, because she couldn't stand to see him so hopelessly lovesick like this.

"Write exactly what I tell you to write," she commanded him, struggling to keep her voice from shaking. She would make Rancis write down all the things she felt for him, and Vanellope would read them and absorb them and know that love existed in _Sugar Rush._

"Alright," Rancis replied, oblivious. And so Crumbelina recited…and the ink flowed…and Rancis left her house an hour later with a long, beautiful poem nicely folded in his pocket, pressing against the piece of licorice he'd taken from Vanellope's hair tie. And once she was sure he was gone, Crumbelina broke down and cried.

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**Fin**

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	3. The Lady's Tears

Sorry for making you guys wait for long for this.

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**The Lady's Tears**

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Rancis had never wanted to see Vanellope cry ever again. He wanted to see her smile and laugh. He'd wanted to see her glow as she read the love poem he and Crumbelina had labored over, the poem that expressed everything he felt for her and more. But when he finally found her after a long search, sitting alone under an orange tree, all traces of cheeriness were absent from her face and there were only tears falling down her cheeks. Some of them fell onto the papers she was holding.

"They want me to fire him, Ran," she choked, without looking up at him, without waiting for him to address her first. She wiped her eyes away with her sleeve. "The servants, the castle guards, even Duncan and Wynchel…they all want him gone."

Rancis blinked in confusion. "Who?"

"Sour Bill."

Rancis, who was already shocked by the sight of Vanellope crying, took a moment to absorb what she'd just told him. His shock only grew worse. For as long as the boy racer could remember, Sour Bill had always been second-in-command at the royal castle _and_ out on the tracks, quietly respected by all rather than loved. But the papers in Vanellope's hands were solid and indisputable proof that the little green man's reputation had died when Turbo did. She showed them to Rancis, and he saw that they were littered with handwritten names.

"It's a petition. Lolli gave it to me this morning," Vanellope explained with a sniffle. Lolli was the head cook in the royal kitchens, and a sort of unofficial spokesperson for the domestic help. "They all signed it. There are three hundred names here, Ran. _Three hundred_. They don't want to work for him, and they don't want him to live in the castle anymore. They don't want him near me."

"But…but _why?_ We were _all _tricked!" Rancis exclaimed. "Why single Sour Bill out? Is it because he was Turbo's right-hand man?"

Vanellope gave a sad little nod. "Yes. Everyone thinks that Bill might still be loyal to Turbo, even though he's dead. But that's not all…"

She reached into her hoodie's pouch pocket and pulled out yet another sheet of paper. It was crinkled from being intensely read and folded up multiple times. She held it up for Rancis to look at. "I haven't sniffed out who wrote this yet. I found it on my bedroom door yesterday morning. But everyone in the castle knows what it's about."

Rancis took the paper from her and skimmed the hastily scribbled words quickly. His whole body froze with horror after he finished reading it. "Sour Bill _knew_," he whispered, looking up at his distraught fellow racer and then back down at the anonymous letter. "He knew that you were supposed to be a racer the whole time!"

Vanellope nodded again.

"And he never said anything, never told any of us, for _fifteen years_…"

"Turbo probably threatened him or something," Vanellope mumbled quietly, though she sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than she was trying to convince Rancis.

"He's probably the one who helped Turbo take over in the first place!" Rancis cried, suddenly furious. He nearly crumpled the letter in his hands. "The…the _creep!_ The scoundrel! Vanellope, everyone's right! You have to fire him! Send him into exile!"

"I _can't!_" Vanellope wailed. She placed her head in her hands. "Do you know what exile _is_, Rancis?! Do you know what it's like to have no home and no work?! Do you know what it's like to have everyone hate and ostracize you?!"

Rancis was rendered silent by her outburst, and guilt viciously twisted his insides. Her enormous eyes were dark with misery, with _hate._ But who was the hate for? For Turbo, for Sour Bill, for her castle staff, for _him?_

"You people don't know what you're asking of me," Vanellope insisted, before Rancis could think of something to say. "I can't do that to Bill! It's not fair! But all these names…I can't just ignore it. I have to think of _something_."

"I don't think there's any compromise you can make," Rancis told her. "Bill's gotta go."

"Go _where?_"

"Anywhere! Far away from _you_, for sure!"

"But I need him!" Vanellope protested. "He knows how the kingdom's supposed to be run! He's been helping me! I'm still new at this _whole head of government_ thing, and—"

_"She's not mad at him," _Rancis realized as Vanellope ranted on. _"That's so typical of her. If it were anyone else, Sour Bill would be gone already, no questions asked. But Vanellope wants to forgive him because he's **helpful**…" _Rancis felt sick. The whole situation was a complete mess. He wondered if any of the others racers knew anything about this.

"Vanellope," he cut her off softly. "Listen to me. _Please._"

He daringly sat down next to her, in the shade of the tree. The air around them was thick and heavy with the sweet scent of ripe oranges, but he was so close to her that he could also smell the candies in her hair.

"We're all counting on you to make the big decisions now," Rancis told her. He placed the letter on her lap, on top of the petition papers. "You're the ruler. You have the divine right, or whatever. Whatever decision you make will be the _right_ one, so you shouldn't stress over—"

"I don't believe in that garbage," Vanellope interrupted him. "That's absolutism. That's for monarchs."

"You're a princess."

"I'm a _president, _and I also have a heart!" Vanellope cried. "I can't ruin someone life because I have some dumb divine _right _to!"

"Sour Bill helped Turbo ruin yours."

Vanellope said nothing.

"You have to fire him, Van."

"I don't_ **have**_ to do anything!"

_"She doesn't have to do anything."_ Crumbelina's words rang in his ears. Instinctively he reached into his pocket to touch the poem they'd written together. He'd almost forgotten about it. He could almost hear Crumbelina whisper, _"Give it to her now. It'll make her smile. It'll make her forget her pain. It'll make her love you." _

Rancis began to pull the poem out. "Vanellope," he began softly, as his heart raced faster and his stomach grew queasy with nerves. "I have something for you."

But Vanellope wasn't listening to him. Her mind was a million miles away from where they were sitting together. She had a racer's mind. She could only drive on one track at a time. "I can't fire Sour Bill."

"Forget about him for a sec—"

"I should talk to Ralph. He'd know what I should do."

"_Ralph?_" Rancis's cheeks burned red with jealousy. What would_ Wreck-It Ralph_ possibly know about _Sugar Rush_ politics? Why would Vanellope value that unkempt ape's advice more than his? He'd lived in this game his entire life! _He_ should be Vanellope's confidant, not Ralph!

Vanellope stood up suddenly, letting all the papers fall from her lap. She gathered them up quickly, clutching them close to her chest. "I'm sorry, Ran. I have to go."

"But…"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, quickly turning away from him.

"Wait!" Rancis cried as she raced off as fast as her stocking-clad legs could take her. He ran after her, but she leaped into her kart and drove off at full speed before he could catch her.

"Vanellope…" he whispered, and her name stung on his lips. Sulking, he stomped back towards the orange tree and slumped back down in one defeated gesture.

"I write her a poem, I listen to her, and she runs off to _Ralph_," he grumbled under his breath. Suddenly the scent of oranges was not as sweet as it always was. He pulled out the piece of Vanellope's hair tie and spent a few moments just staring at it. When he lifted it up to his nose, it smelled of love.

"_Next time_," he whispered to himself. "_Next time_."

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**Fin**

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